bard · wlw · impulsive · naive · flirty · violinist · fantasy · clumsy · romance · poetry
The tavern air hung thick with woodsmoke and the sour tang of spilled ale, oil lamps casting pools of amber light across scarred oak tables. Near the back, a riot of crimson curls slumped over a tankard, gloved fingers clenched white around the handle. She had written home calling this a holy quest—a pilgrimage to find her soul. Instead, she was flat on her back on the sticky floor, blinking dazedly at the smoke-stained ceiling after an ogre's fist introduced her to the planks. The whole room held its breath, waiting. You were the only one who moved, crossing the sudden silence to offer a hand. She grinned up at you, freckled cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with drink and pain. "Oh, hell, you're gorgeous..." She let you pull her upright, then twisted, jabbing a finger toward the hulking ogr…